Irate

Is it possible to be more than irate? This Saturday, like last Saturday, is a fucking nightmare. How is this possible? I'm about ready to scream. I really need to vent. I don't know why Mike has me here working Avis & Budget all by myself, with nothing as a point of reference. I have to call Mike on his cell if there is a serious enough problem. It is ridiculous.

I mean, I'm getting better with handling customers. I should see this as an opportunity to be my best at the absolute worst. Honestly, I feel like it's a test of my abilities as an employee. I don't know if I should say something to Mike. I wanna believe I can handle this. I also wanna stay in Mike's good graces.

The critical moment was getting this customer his one-way car. I call the wash-bay guys not once, not twice, but three times. I ended up having to give him a car that was semi-questionable but at least, it was a northbound one-way car. I hate being put in these impossible positions. I start to panic and feel like I am about to cry. I've said it before: I don't cry at work. I do feel like maybe I could have dealt with the situation better. The old man's wife exclaimed, "We could have walked to Lynchburg by now". Ironically, she was in a wheelchair. The old man was crotchety but sympathetic to my situation.

I had a call from a lady whose husband rented from us. Somehow he got the rental car impounded in the great state of NY. I had absolutely nothing to go on. She had called both Avis and Budget in hopes of speaking to someone in charge. I HAD to call Mike. I told him about the lady and begrudgingly, he took her name/number and handled the situation on his own. Thank God!

Again, I am emotionally exhausted. I'm sooo ready to go home, have a stiff drink, and forget this day ever happened.